Hello Goodbye
by GreenNereid
Summary: A fairly short fanfic that takes place after the movie Hair. The tribe has gathered in Claude and Sheila's house to find the answer to the question they've all been asking: Who is the father of Jeannie's child?


Hello Goodbye

A Hair Fanfiction

The door swung open behind Woof. He turned to see Sheila standing with one hand on the wall, her face expressionless.

"Is Jeannie okay?" he asked.

"Of course she's okay," replied Sheila.

"Well, it sounded like some bastard was tearing her open with an axe," said Woof.

A knock echoed from the hallway. Sheila ran over to pull open the door.

It was Hud- a little late, but it didn't really matter. Woof smiled, remembering the times he had spent with his former tribe member. He was Jeannie's first love, but he'd previously had a wife who he left to join their tribe. Now he was back with her and their child, Lafayette Jr.

Hud voiced the question that had been on Woof's tongue. "Who's the father?"

"Why don't you go in and see?" Sheila held the door open.

The two of them stepped inside. Woof's heart skipped a beat. Jeannie was holding a crying, squirming something wrapped in a tie-dye cloth.

"Who's the father?" Hud repeated.

Jeannie opened her mouth, but Woof silenced her with a gentle finger to her lips and looked down at the child in her arms.

"Let's use _your _rubric," he teased playfully. "It's white." He poked the child. "It's squishy." He paused for a moment, trying to recall the last thing Hud had said in the tunnel so long ago, when Claude had first been with them. "And it's definitely crying its ass off."

They all laughed.

"Is it a boy or a girl?" questioned Woof.

"It's a boy," Jeannie told him.

"Well, I guess this is good," Hud commented. "If the kid had been mine, I would have felt responsible for it too, you know?" Even as he said so, he looked a little disappointed.

Woof wished he could say something to reassure his friend, but he wasn't that good at sympathy. At a loss for words, he looked down at his child again. _His child. _Pride coursed through him. This was his son, someone to be responsible for.

"What should we name him?" asked Jeannie.

Names. Woof racked his brain. He wished Berger were here. The old tribe leader would have jokingly rattled off a list of ridiculous names.

That was it.

"George," answered Woof. "I think we should name him George, after Berger."

Jeannie's eyes lit up with both sorrow and happiness. "Yes, that's perfect! George Dachshund."

Sheila appeared again, carrying a pile of blankets. She dumped them at the foot of the bed and sat down next to them.

"Jeannie, I just thought of something," she announced. "I think you guys should lay off the drugs for a while. It wouldn't be good for the kid."

Woof spread his hands in an exaggerated gesture. "Whatever you say, Doctor."

"I'm not kidding," Sheila snapped. "What if he's hurt or something and neither of you can help him because you're too busy getting high?"

Jeannie rolled her eyes. "I guess you're right."

Sheila nodded assertively.

"Hey, where's Claude?" Hud interjected.

"Probably stuffing his face in the kitchen," replied Sheila. "Couldn't stand to be around when someone's giving birth...honestly." She laughed.

"Would he mind if we stayed here a while?" asked Jeannie. "We don't have anywhere else to go."

"I'm sure he'd be fine with it. But you have to promise us you'll find a home eventually. You can't raise a family on the streets."

Woof stifled an aggravated scoff. This was the effect of filthy-rich relations drilling their rules into her head every day. But he couldn't help agreeing. It would be hard to take care of a child with only Central Park as a home. As the war drew to a close, more and more tribes were starting to withdraw. Some returned to old homes, some were starting new ones. It didn't seem as if the outcome of the war was going to be in their favor, but in the end, it didn't matter. All that mattered was the lives that had been lost.

Berger shouldn't have been one of them.

_He's still with us, in a way, _thought Woof, glancing down at the newborn George.

He grinned mischievously. "Come on, guys. Let's see what Claude and Sheila have made us for dinner."


End file.
